


No Heed

by Ferretina



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Asshole Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferretina/pseuds/Ferretina
Summary: Thranduil makes a habit of capturing everyone he finds in the Mirkwood, not just the dwarves. what happens when he captures the wrong person?





	No Heed

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently a one shot but if people like it and ask I will expand on it.

“Well as much as I would like to listen to your self-important rant goldilocks, I have some where to be.”

Thranduil blinked.

“See I’m in quite a lot of pain right now as all your uppity guards can probably tell you and I’m going to die soon and I don’t want the last thing I see to be you so I’m going back into the – not your- forest, and maybe find a nice river to die by.” The human male looked accusingly at him. “And if I don’t make it in time I will come back just to haunt your ass.”

Thranduil was astonished. No one ever talked to him like this. Not since he had become king. he should be outraged, but instead he felt almost pity for robbing this mortal of its choice of final resting place. The mortal certainly seemed to believe it was his fault. With a wave of his hand he ordered the mortal to be taken to the healers. He had probably been from one of the towns near the edge of the forest and wandered in looking for pray to hunt, oblivious to the spreading darkness. Mortals were like that. Thranduil assumed he would go back to the town he came from once healed and promptly forgot about the mortal.

That was a mistake.

                                                                                                --

Thranduil looked toward the dwarfs kneeling before him bound. He sneered. “And what are _dwarves_ doing trespassing in my lands?” He took delight in watching them snarl and shift.

“That’s kind of racist don’t you think?” Thranduil’s head snapped to where the voice came from at the edge of the throne room. A human man was sprawled out with his back against the wall and an old tome written in Sindarin on his lap. He seemed oddly familiar. “I mean, the way you snarled ‘dwarves’ as if were an insult was kinda rude ya know.” Thranduil stared. How dare this mortal tell him what to do.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Thranduil said in an incredulous tone.

“Hmm figures you don’t remember. You did the exact same thing to me remember except I nearly died. You kidnapped me and insisted on doing some speech that I wasn’t listening to while I bled all over the floor. Look there’s the stain over there” the mortal pointed to a dark patch on the flagstones near one of the dwarves. “It was a few years ago but aren’t elves supposed to have a good memory?”

“You are still here.” Thranduil was astonished.

“Yup”

“And you can read Sindarin.”

“Taught myself actually. Wasn’t hard, although I do think your history books are a smidge biased.” At that Thranduil promptly forgot about the dwarves.

“What makes you think a pitiful mortal like yourself is welcome here?”

“I’m telling Genny you said that.”

“And who is this ‘Genny’ you speak of?”

“you’ll find out.” That sounded ominous but Thranduil payed no heed.

It turned out Genny was the head cook and apparently could hold a grudge as any food he ate that wasn’t part of a feast was cold and salty for the next century until he apologised.


End file.
